My Life is an Open MacBook

An oldster comes up to me before a county airport-related meeting in the Bluffton Library, and points to my MacBook:Oldster: Boy, that’s a beautiful machine. That’s just really nice. Look at that, it’s beautiful.Me (slightly overwhelmed): Oh this? Yeah, it’s … nice. Works pretty good too.Oldster: Jeez, I mean, look at that thing. It’s just gorgeous. It’s a beautiful piece of machinery.Me (now trying to cover up the palm-stained mousepad and crumbs dribbling out of the keyboard): It’s a little old, I think. Actually, it’s not mine, it’s the Packet’s. But I get to use it for meetings like this.Oldster (not paying attention, still in awe): Isn’t that something.Me: How far we’ve come, right?Oldster: Have you seen one of these iPhones?Me: Um, yeah … (Or, maybe I should have gone with the Pete Early response: “What do I look like, a f—– homeless person?”)Oldster: Man, are they neat. Hey, do you think that’s the direction everything’s going in? Do you think everything will be more like this (points to laptop) or more like the iPhone? I’ve got this old phone, and it’s nothing like that.Me: Umm … I don’t really know the answer to that, I guess. Maybe somewhere in between?Oldster: Boy oh boy, isn’t that something.